


Dealing

by spirogyra



Series: Charlie, A Product of Science [2]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Anal, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, religious hypocrisy, the gang being typical pieces of shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirogyra/pseuds/spirogyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie discovers the scientist's side job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dealing

**Author's Note:**

> This technically takes place in the middle-end of Charlie Becomes the Scientist's Bitch, but it's definitely better read after that whole thing.
> 
> Not technically written for anyone, but as ever feriowind was disturbingly encouraging about it getting done.

Charlie looked at the bottle, stared hard at the words. "E. Rec. Tion…? Dude, is this some kind of boner pill?" he squeaked out.

"In a manner of speaking," the scientist said evenly, studiously counting the number of blue and white pills he had in front of him.

"I don't need boner pills. There's not a god damn thing wrong with my boner!"

The scientist looked up and smiled at Charlie. "I know that, Charlie, but that's not the only thing in these." He finished counting, snapped the top on an unmarked pill bottle, then faced Charlie. "It pains me to say this, but the salary of a university research scientist is often criminally low. I've taken to certain side efforts to bolster my income."

"You make-"

"I make mood enhancers. Safe ones. It wouldn't do to have students die from my product, would it?"

Charlie stared. "What do they do?" he asked, quietly now, not nearly as worked up over the revelation.

"Perhaps, if you're good, you can try one for yourself later."

Chewing on his bottom lip, eyes staring at the bottle, Charlie shrugged. "Whatever. And what is that supposed to mean anyway? 'If I'm good'? I'm not a dog."

"I'm not saying you are, Charlie. Only that if you're _good_ …" The rest was left unsaid though perfectly understandable.

 

Charlie's eyes were closed as he braced himself on the bathroom counter. He couldn't bare to see himself in the large mirror, see whatever truths he wanted to deny on his face, so he kept his eyes closed.

"That's a good boy, Charlie. Just like that. It's perfect."

The scientist's hands held his hips tightly, jerking him back to meet each thrust. Not long now, he'd learned the tighter the hold, the more sudden and violent the thrusts, the closer the scientist was to finishing. Then a shamefully quick orgasm of his own, and he'd have to sit on the toilet to flush himself out.

A sudden hard jab against his prostate had him on his toes and sucking in a breath. It happened. He couldn't control it. It wasn't his fault. The high-pitched noise that escaped from his throat wasn't his fault either.

"Oh yes," the scientist said with a hiss, and held himself against Charlie. He leaned forward and scraped his teeth over the back of Charlie's neck as his hands loosened their grip and rubbed over his flanks. This continued for a long moment while Charlie suffered with his throbbing hard-on, until the scientist reached over for the unlabeled bottle. "One. Just one."

The top popped open, a rattle of pills, and then the scientist's arm was around his body, and his hand was in front of Charlie's face. Charlie kept his eyes down to avoid seeing himself in the mirror still.

Fuck, what was he doing?

Charlie leaned forward and sucked the pill into his mouth. As he leaned back to swallow it, the scientist's hand followed to briefly cover his mouth. Then it rubbed down over his chin to settle over his throat, where the slender fingers stroked him delicately.

"Give it a few minutes then tell me what you feel."

A few minutes. It didn't even take that long for him to get _painfully_ hard and that familiar feeling of soaring, but piled on top of that was a restlessness, a desire to _move_. His thoughts were as scattered as ever, but now they were somehow distant as well. Ideas that made no sense shot through his brain, and he was perfectly aware most people didn't _get_ his ideas, so these were extra weird. Then his mind was just... oozing on these ideas, trying to think on them, but getting no traction. Just thinking the same thing over and over, waiting for it to _be something_. "What the fuck?" he asked a little breathlessly, completely forgetting his current state of being.

The world was moving around him, a gentle gyration that made him glad someone was holding him in place. Without that, who knew where he might go buzzing off to?

"You like that, Charlie? You feel like you like it."

Distantly, Charlie felt the scientist's hand on his dick, but it was insignificant with all the other stuff his brain was running through. Denim chicken seemed so silly when the larger question of a bird with teeth was still out there. Scientific discovery! Or a squirrel with shark teeth? Maybe the reverse, a human with a bird's beak!

Charlie's eyes were rolling, looking left, right, up and down, until they locked on his own face in the mirror abruptly. His mouth was hanging open, slack, as a stretching strand of spit hung from his lip. He slowly looked down to stare with a confused, unblinking gaze at the scientist's hand stroking up and down on his dick.

It was a surprise that he hardly even felt when he came, hitting both his stomach and the counter.

"Is it good?"

_Is it good?_

_Is it good?_

_Is it good?_

 

His mouth was dry and his tongue felt too big to fit the way it was supposed to. Every ounce of strength was drained from his limbs, and Charlie could only flop around in bed until momentum moved him to lay on his stomach.

Holy shit.

A long groan, though he wasn't exactly sure how he felt. Good or bad, or just _there_.

But he could smell food, breakfast cooking, filling the air with the delicious scent of it didn't matter, only that he could eat it. Charlie groaned again, unable to make his mouth form words, hoping someone would hear him and help figure out what the hell was happening to him. Not that he'd know because he was face-down in the pillow, just barely able to breathe because his head was on the very edge of it.

"Give it some time, Charlie," the scientist said, practically scaring the piss out of him because he hadn't heard the man come in and he had to take a _serious_ leak.

"Need pee."

"Ah, here, let me help you."

It was less that he lacked the strength and more that he had zero coordination. With the scientist arranging his limbs, Charlie was hauled to his feet and half-shuffled and was half-dragged into the bathroom. Humiliating, but the most efficient option, he sat down on the toilet with his head hanging, unable to keep it up. "Thank."

"Take your time, Charlie."

Maybe he fell asleep while he sat there, maybe not, it was hard to tell. His entire memory felt like a series of bad pictures, out of focus and too bright, a thumb in the corner hiding half of what was going on.

_Is it good?_

Staggering back to the bedroom, feeling loose and wriggly. Satisfied, less shamed than usual, _still_ hard. The scientist dressing him because he was too busy dancing to do it himself. Exhausted from dancing for what must have been _hours_ and laying down. Still hard and properly horny. And then he'd…

Just gone and done it without being told or even fucking asked. Then with his ass in the air like one of those freaky monkeys at the zoo with the red butts, begging, smiling into the pillow every time the belt hit him. Finally coming into the shorts still caught on his boner as the scientist fucked him again.

Jesus.

No wonder he was so damned sore.

***

"Tell me something, Charlie. Do you know, from perhaps past experience, somewhere we might find people that would be interested in a product like mine?"

Charlie blinked. "Not the school, man." All he could think was how fucked up he'd been in school, and he definitely hadn't needed anything fancy to accomplish that.

"Of course not! I'm thinking more in the line of places you've been in your time as a bar owner and previous user. The city is not one I am overly familiar with outside of the university for recreational activities."

Charlie's eye started to twitch, and he scrubbed his hand over it. "Yeah."

 

It never mattered how he dressed. They never took him seriously, always acting like it was a costume rather than an effort to be more than a janitor. He was a joke to them, always had been even when they talked about best friends and shit. So why was he so fucking nervous as he was about to open the door?

"Go on, Charlie. They can't hurt you."

Maybe not, but he had plenty of memories of that happening, enough to make him hesitate. The scientist took hold his hand and squeezed briefly, then released it. This was a big mistake; he was getting that weird feeling in his stomach that meant he shouldn't be there. "Easy for you to say," he mumbled, then opened the door.

The interior was as dark and dingy as ever, though it seemed to smell worse. Whether that was him not there to do the shit work, or he'd just gotten use to living somewhere clean he wasn't exactly sure.

"Charlie! Science bitch!"

He wanted to shrink away and walk out.

"Thought you were too good for us now that you got a sugar daddy," Frank said from his seat at the end of the bar. "Pays for all your shit now, and all you had to do was bang him?"

Dennis and Mac both snickered.

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Charlie," Dee said evenly. "You look good."

That almost coaxed a smile out of him, but Mac crushed that in an instant. "You know you're going to Hell for being gay."

"Yeah," Dennis added so very unhelpfully, "that's pretty gay, you living with that guy."

Charlie stared _hard_ at the two of them. "Living with a guy makes me gay?"

"Yep!"

A frown at Mac. "So me and Frank were gay?"

"You did get gay married."

"We weren't gay. Charlie just needed my health benefits," Frank said. "He was the worst husband ever."

" _You_ were the worst! You didn't give a shit about me! Every damned thing was about you, Frank!" Charlie yelled, feeling the thin thread of control he'd had hold of start to slip. "And you, and you, and you!" he continued, pointing in turn at Mac, Dennis, and Dee. "And I don't even know who I am now, and it's all your fault."

"Nobody here made you gay, Charlie. That's your choice."

"Mac, shut up!" hissed Dee. "Shut up about your stupid God shit that nobody here believes!"

"The Bible says that a man that layeth with another man-"

"F-fuck you! Just fuck you and your stupid bible shit! You don't know shit about me, and you never did!"

The yelling didn't seem to bother Mac in the least. "Apparently I didn't, or I would have tried to guide you away from the path of homose-"

A scream of frustration drowned out anything further from Mac as Charlie turned and stomped into the bathroom. They could say whatever they wanted, but one foot into the space was enough to know how desperately they missed all the shit he used to do around the bar.

The bathroom was a mess, and it smelled, and two of the urinals had plastic bags over them which were collecting piss from where people used them anyway. The sink looked not too bad though, and Charlie ran the water until it was cold. What a bunch of assholes. Why he thought anything would ever be different was just… It was just stupid. He was stupid. He'd never learn. The fucking rats in the basement learned better than he did.

The cold water on his face didn't help, not like it always did on TV in the movies. It just made him wet and cold, and he looked like a trainwreck in the mirror. Christ, he hated looking at himself in the mirror.

"Charlie?"

"I'm fine, dude." But it came out as a broken squeak, not fine at all.

"You're obviously not." He was right behind Charlie, a warm and solid presence in this cold, smelly place. "I'm sorry I made you do this."

But he'd needed to, _wanted_ to, because he'd wanted to see the gang again. And finally he hadn't been able to convince himself they only liked him for his entertainment value. This would keep him away for a long time, until those old memories, hazy with alcohol, seemed not so bad again.

"Here, just a half a pill to get you through this."

Just a little something to even him out, calm him down. "Yes, please." Please, something to get him away from this nightmare that was his life.

"It's fine, Charlie. Just relax. Breathe."

He swallowed the pill dry, and tried to calm himself.

"That's it." The scientist's hand moved low, brushing at first across the fly of Charlie's trousers.

Was this really happening here? His life had been out of control before, but now it was so out of his control, Charlie didn't even know where to look to try and find the barest of holds on it.

 

"You guys don't have to be such dickbags. What difference does it make who Charlie's living with or whatever disgusting thing he does in the bedroom?" Dee shuddered a little.

Dennis was not backing down though. "Look at him, Dee. He is still the same dirty little man he's always been. God knows we've tried, but dressing him up is like putting expensive lingerie on a water buffalo."

"You're an asshole."

"Dude, it doesn't even matter. He knows exactly what's going to happen to him when Judgment Day comes." Mac took a long, thoughtful drink of beer. "I wonder why he decided to be gay."

"You're an asshole too. The both of you. Just leave him alone. Did you ever think that your shitty attitudes is what ran him off in the first place? If you had been a little nicer he'd still be here cleaning the toilets and killing the rats for us?"

Dennis sneered at his sister, shaking his head before he finished his beer. "And what the hell are they doing in there? Nobody spends any more time in that bathroom than they absolutely need to."

"Probably fucking."

"Frank!"

"Dude, that is disgusting!"

"You are a sickening little troll."

Frank shrugged. "A public restroom is like the mecca of places to have sex for gays. You see it in the news all the time."

"You are a hopeless monster. I can't deal with you dicks today." Dee grabbed her purse before she walked out from behind the bar and left.

The three men stared.

"She just walked out," Mac said, confused.

"What a bitch."

"I'm not cleaning the jizz up in the bathroom."

As Dennis stepped around from behind the bar, saying, "Yes, you are, Frank," he was looking at the bathroom door. "They wouldn't _really_ be having sex in there, would they?"

Mac stood next to him. "Of course they would. Plenty of people have before them, like you-"

"And you."

"-but what Frank said was true."

"You know, your whole Catholic thing is getting really old and pretty offensive, Mac. Especially considering your own confusion."

"Confusion? Dennis, I am _not_ confused. Just because I appreciate a well-muscled physique-"

"You can just stop right there. I know exactly how much you like looking at men, and I-"

A noise. From the bathroom.

In unison, Mac and Dennis' heads tilted to the side.

"Was that…?"

"I think it was."

"Go in there and make them stop, Dennis."

"I'm not stepping one foot in there. I have no interest in seeing what kind of homosexual hijinx Charlie is engaging in!"

"We can't allow gay sex to be happening in our Irish Catholic bar!"

Another louder noise.

"This is an abomination against God!"

"Oh really?" Dennis was looking now at the bulge at the front of Mac's pants.

"Yeah, well." A pointed look from Mac to call attention to Dennis' similar state.

Frank cackled and lifted his beer in salute. "You're both homos!"

Both men turned, ready to start screaming, when the bathroom door opened.

"Sell these like the talented cretins you are," the scientist said in a tone that was so untouchably superior, no one made a noise. "I'll return, alone, in a week to collect the money." He threw a packed-full bag of pills that hit Dennis in the chest. With his arm around Charlie's waist, obviously supporting him, he led them out.

***

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I won't make you go back there again." His fingers carded through the hair at Charlie's neck. "I should have never gotten you involved. It's not a burden you need."

His life was a misery; he'd spent years training himself that it wasn't, but that confrontation destroyed all that effort. All the time he'd studiously convinced himself things couldn't possibly be so bad, that he could manage anything in front of him, that he had ability with no place to apply it, it was a lie.

Why did he ever bother trying?

"Come here, Charlie."

He rolled over, not even hesitating at this point, to press his face into the clean, soft shirt. The warmth of skinny but strong arms surrounded him, and managed to stave off the tears that always seemed threatening to fall now.

"In the morning, this will all be in the past, and you won't ever have to think about it again. How does that sound?" The fingers don't stop, soothing and consistent.

It sounded like something he could live with.

**Author's Note:**

> [Caps and caps](echoisles.tumblr.com)   
> [Fan-related things](echoislesfandom.tumblr.com)


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